The year of the virgins (15 page)

'No, no' - her voice was firm as she pulled herself upright - 'because you do love me and I you . . . even without that.'

'Oh, Annette' - again he put his hand out to her - 'don't delude yourself. It's all part of the process.'

'Well, we've had a good share of the process, haven't we?' There was a break in her voice now. 'Just think of that. I'm carrying the results of the process, aren't I?' She patted her stomach and, forcing back the tears, she brought laughter into her voice as she said, 'And tonight I'm getting into that bed with you, so move over, Don Coulson.' Then giving his face a light slap, she turned swiftly away, saying, 'I'm going to get ready.' . . .

Half an hour later she got into the car. It would be less than a five-minute run to her old home, and she knew exactly where she'd find her parents when she reached there at about ten o'clock. Her father would be in his study, going over the previous day's reports from their shops: four grocery and three greengrocery establishments, as well as an antique shop in the upper quarter of the town, and a junk shop near the market. At half-past ten he would leave the house and do spot checks on the establishments, varying his time of arrival so as to catch out someone, as he saw it, not doing his duty. It was said that he had the quickest turnover of staff in the town: misdemeanours, however small, were not tolerated under his management.

Her mother would have already been in the kitchen and given Polly orders for the meals of the day. She would have examined the larder and the refrigerator. She would have checked the stores in the cupboard. And it being Thursday, and with the Catholic Ladies' Guild meeting being held in the afternoon in the drawing-room, she would likely have given Janie and Sarah their weekly

admonishment as to their duties - she still insisted on their wearing frilly caps and aprons after lunch. She had often wondered how Janie had reigned so long in the house, because she hated wearing them. She had watched her snap one from her head and throw it on the kitchen floor, then pick it up and, laughing, say, 'You won't split, will you, miss, will you?' And she could hear Polly saying, 'She won't split, else she won't get a jam tart at eleven.' There had been no eating between meals in her home.

It was Sarah who opened the door to her. 'Oh, hello, miss,' she said. 'But isn't it cold? Freeze the drops in your nose, this would. How are you?'

'I'm fine, Sarah. How are you?'

'Oh, you know, miss; you know me, waiting for that rich man to come along and sweep me off my feet.'

It was her usual remark, and Annette said, 'Well, if I meet him on the road back, I'll tell him to hurry up.' This was their usual banter. Sarah, Polly and Janie and their predecessors were the only light relief she had found in this house.

'Where's Mother?'

'Oh, in her rest-room, miss; you know.'

'Polly all right . . . and Janie?'

'Yes, miss.' Sarah's voice was subdued now. 'Nice if you could pop in afore you go.'

'I'll try, but I doubt it will be this morning.'

'Oh.' Sarah's mouth was pursed . . . which said a lot for her understanding of the situation in the house.

For such an imposing house it lacked a hall; in its place was a very broad and long corridor, at the end of which was a similar but shorter one. She turned into it and knocked on the first door. It was several seconds before a voice called, 'Come in.'

She entered the room that had always appeared to her to be partly a chapel, for in one corner stood a small altar, in the centre of which was a crucifix flanked on one side by the figure of Mary and on the other by the figure of Joseph, and to the right of it, attached to the wall, a glass holy water font. In front of the altar was a padded knee-stool from which she knew her mother had just risen.

'Hello, dear.'

'Hello, Mother.'

'You're visiting early.'

'Yes, yes, I suppose I am.'

'How is Don?'

'Much the same . . . Mother?'

'Yes, my dear?'

'I have something to tell you. Sit down.'

Mrs Allison stared at her daughter. She wasn't used to being told to sit down, at least not by this child of hers. She sat down, but noted that her daughter didn't. And now she said, 'Well, I'm sitting down, so what have you to tell me?'

'Mother-in-law was taken to The County asylum last night.'

'What!' Mrs Allison half rose from the chair, then subsided again, to sit breathing heavily for a while before saying, 'Well, it's really not surprising, Winifred has always been very highly strung. But what brought this about? Some kind of fracas?'

'Yes, you could say that.'

Her mother stared at her and her mouth opened and closed twice before she said, 'Concerning you?'

'Definitely concerning me . . . You see, Mother, I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby. I'm surprised you haven't noticed. But then, of course, I've been wearing

loose dresses and coats. And you've very rarely looked at me, have you, not properly?'

She watched her mother's hand move slowly across the lower part of her face; she saw the thumb press into one cheek and the fingers into the other, forcing colour into the pale skin around them.

'Oh, my God!' she cried, the words muffled by the palm of her hand. 'I ... I knew there was something . . . something that I should have seen, but not this. Oh! . . . Oh! your father.' She now took her hand from her face and placed it on the top of her head as if pressing herself down into the seat and muttered, 'Dear God.'

For her mother to mention God's name twice, apart from in a prayer, was an indication of how the news was affecting her. Yet she had not raised her voice. And that was the difference between the two mothers: her mother-in-law had screamed her anger, whereas her own mother was able to contain herself. Appearances must be kept up.

Annette watched her mother press a bell on the wall, while she continued to stare at her daughter. She said nothing until the door opened and Sarah appeared; and she listened with amazement at her mother's composure, as in a perfectly calm voice she said, 'Ask Mr Allison if he can spare a moment; I would like to speak to him.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

When the door had closed the shock returned to Mrs Allison's voice as she said, 'This will have a terrible effect on your father and his standing in the church. Oh!' She closed her eyes for a moment. 'Do you realise what you have done, girl? You have ruined us. We won't be able to lift our heads up again. And that wedding! All those people at that wedding, and you in white . . . purity. Oh!' She jerked herself up out of the chair and began to pace the room.

It was just as Annette was about to defend herself that the door opened and her father appeared. As usual, his presence seemed to fill the room and make it appear smaller: his height and breadth, and his sheer bulk . . . the stiff, quiet bulk of him which she could never recall being disturbed in any way. 'Good morning, Annette,' he said. His tone was level.

'Good morning, Father.'

'You're early. Is everything . . . ?'

That his wife dared to cut him off in the middle of a sentence by saying, 'James, this is no time for niceties; she has something to tell you,' caused him to breathe deeply before he turned his enquiring gaze from his wife to his daughter, at whom he now stared for a full minute without speaking, and then he said simply, 'Yes?'

Her stomach had trembled all the way here; she had felt sick with it. But the fear was not new; she had always been afraid of this man. He was her father; yet, unlike other fathers, he had never put his arms about her. He had never held her head against that broad chest. When he had kissed her, it was on the brow, and that was rarely. More than once since she had conceived the child within her she had wondered how her own conception had come about: what had stirred his bulk to create, and how had her prim, composed mother responded? Had they both later been ashamed of the act? Yes, yes, she could imagine that. And ever since they must have prayed to expunge it, for she had never seen them kiss. She had never even seen them hold hands. They slept in separate beds. As far back as she could remember they had always had separate beds. Her mother, she knew, undressed in the dressing-room and under her nightie, and had taught her to do the same. Her mind now gave a jump back to the previous night, when she

had stood naked with Don's hand on her stomach. Would that sight have broken down her father's facade?

'I'm going to have a baby, Father.'

No muscle of his face moved, except that his eyelids seemed to droop slightly.

'You've heard what she said, James? You've heard what she said?' Her mother was clutching the front of her woollen dress with both hands as if she was suddenly very cold. 'You see, it must have happened . . .'

'Quiet!' The word itself was said quietly, but it was a command. 'You say you are going to have a child?'

'Yes, Father.'

'Conceived out of wedlock?'

'You could say so, Father.'

'I could say so? But what have you to say? You who were brought up in strict piety - have defiled yourself.'

'We'll have to move. I couldn't bear it,' her mother put in.

He cast a glance at his wife, but his attention was brought back swiftly to Annette for she was exclaiming, 'Oh yes, follow the Tolletts. They too couldn't stand the shame of Maria having a baby. She was another one who had been brought up in strict piety. You're hypocrites, both of you.' Now she did see a change in her father's face: she watched the purple hue take over and she saw that for a moment he was unable to speak, staggered apparently by the accusation and audacity of this child, as he thought her - at least, he had until a moment ago - for she went on, 'I've thought it for a long time and I'll say it now: it's all show; stained-glass window in the church; offering to pay for the new organ, but begrudging your shop staff a shilling or so rise. It's all show. And look at you.' She flung her hand from one to the other. 'Have

you ever been happy together? I was glad to be at school, just to get away from this house.'

Her father was now speaking through tight lips: 'Do you know what you have done, girl?' His voice was thin and sounded deadly, with a deep finality about it. 'You have severed yourself from me.'

Annette stood staring, her eyelids blinking, her throat full. She had thought she could get through this meeting without breaking down, but now the tears rained down her cheeks and she cried, 'My mother-in-law was taken to the asylum last night, not only because she came upon me standing naked before my husband, but also because, like you both, she has religious mania, and is an unnatural parent. And you needn't worry about severing me from the family. That certainly works both ways.'

If she had turned into the devil incarnate they could not have looked on her with more horror and distaste, and it appeared to Annette at this moment that her father was actually swelling, his whole appearance so frightening she felt she must get out of the house at once.

She turned and pushed her way from the room and along the corridor to where Sarah was waiting near the front door. And on the sight of her, Sarah exclaimed, 'Oh, miss. Oh! Oh, miss. Don't take on. It'll be all right. You just stick to your guns. We're all for you.'

Annette could say nothing in reply. She ran blindly across the drive to the car, but once she had seated herself, she would not allow herself to set off until her spasm of crying had stopped when, having dried her eyes and face, she turned the car about and drove away from the home of her childhood, knowing that whether they stayed or went, her parents would never recognise her again.

It was nearing the end of March. The sun was bright and the month had ceased to keep to pattern, for there was no high wind today. It was Saturday and visiting day at the County Mental Hospital. Daniel, Flo, and Harvey were standing in the hallway amid a gentle toing and froing of patients and visitors. The grounds outside were already dotted with people walking between the flower beds, and as Daniel glanced out through the open door, he said, in an undertone, Tf the inside was half as attractive as the outside of this place it would do.'

'Why do you think we have to wait?' asked Flo.

'Your guess is as good as mine and you know it, Flo: somebody's just mentioned my name to her and she's had a screaming fit.'

'She seemed much improved when we were last here.'

Daniel looked at Harvey. 'Yes,' he said; 'no offence meant, but she could even tolerate you, whereas I'm still the thorn in her flesh and always will be apparently. So it would seem there's not much chance of her improving unless I could be got rid of in some way.'

'Don't talk like that, Daniel,' Flo said sharply. 'Anyway, the impression I got is that they are very good to the patients.'

'You've only been here twice, Flo, so we have different opinions on that. From what I've seen, if you're not quite round the bend when you come in you'll certainly have travelled the distance before you're ready to go out; I'm sure they must imbibe one another's disorders. I hate the place.' Daniel turned quickly towards an approaching nurse who, smiling broadly, said to him, 'Matron would like to have a word with you, Mr Coulson.' She passed her smile over Harvey and Flo, then turned away; and Daniel followed her down a bare stone corridor and into an office where, behind a desk, sat a comparatively young woman and, to her side, a middle-aged man.

The man stood up and held out his hand to Daniel, saying, 'How are you, Mr Coulson?' to which Daniel replied, 'Quite well, doctor, thank you,' then inclined his head towards the matron.

When seated, he waited for one or the other of them to speak. And it was the doctor who said, 'Naturally you'll be wanting to know how your wife is faring. Over the last two or three weeks ... it is three weeks since you were here?' He now turned his head to the matron. 'That so, matron?' And, looking down on a ledger, matron said, 'Yes; yes, it is three weeks since Mr Coulson's last visit.'

Thinking they must be blaming him for his neglect, Daniel now put in, 'I've been under the weather myself; sort of 'flu.'

'Oh. Oh - ' the doctor wagged his finger at him now -'we are not criticising you for your absence, don't believe that for a moment, but matron felt that you should be put